Legends of Soul Weapons
by SwordOfTheGods
Summary: Kingdom!AU, With the history of Weapons fallen into only myths and legends, the remaining Weapons stay in hiding, but when a princess finds the Prince of Weapons thought lost 300 years ago, the world returns to a time when heroes were needed. Can Maka prepare in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! SwordOfTheGods here with another story I don't plan of finishing. So yeah, I'll say right off the bat that this story is _up for adoption_. I have three chapters written, just enough to help establish the world, the history, and the placement of the characters as I envisioned them in this setting. If anyone wants to pick this story up or take any ideas from it, just send me a PM and note the fact in an A/N. It's always nice when someone toots your horn for you.**

**Anyway, I'll leave another message at the end of Chapter 3 reminding y'all that this story will not be finished by me.**

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**Chapter 1:**

Soul Evans ran for his life, tears streaming down his face and his home burning behind him. The screams of the people still reached him as they were slaughtered without mercy. The sound of horses pounded from somewhere behind, forcing the boy to take a sharp turn and dash into the forest beyond the edge of the path.

"Damn it!" a man exclaimed, his horse slowing to a stop. "That little bastard ran off into the forest!"

"Calm down, Hendrick," another man muttered. "It won't get too far." The two dismounted, trudging into the woods.

Several dozen feet ahead, Soul continued to hurry, running from the men. Coming upon a large oak with a hollow area, he pushed his way inside and piled branches from a nearby bush in front of the entrance. Just in time.

"Where the Hell did that little monster go?" the man named Hendrick yelled, pushing himself through the branches and trees. He was a tall man with dark hair and a sword hanging at his side. "He was just here a second ago!"

"The bloodhounds are on the way," the unnamed pursuer grunted, a bow slung over his shoulder and an arrow pouch strapped to his back. "They'll come help when they're certain all of those _things_ are dealt with in the kingdom proper."

"But we can't let the Weapon Prince get away!" Hendrick replied. "You know what Mistress Medusa does to those who fail her, Norman!"

"And we won't fail," Norman responded. "Just keep looking in the woods, yeah? I'll head back to the road and return with the bloodhounds in a few minutes."

"Fine." With a grunt, Hendrick wandered off into the brush. Norman eyed the area around them, but, luckily, his eyes passed over Soul's hiding spot without pausing.

"This is what they get," Norman muttered angrily to himself. "I don't see why they were so loved. People that turn into weapons and eat souls aren't people at all. They're monsters." He turned back toward the road and retreated.

Soul waited for only a minute and a half before bursting out of hiding, forging a path through the undergrowth as quickly and as silently as he could. Luck just seemed to be against him, however, since the baying of hunting dogs began to sound only a few minutes afterward.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Soul whisper-yelled. "Why is this happening?!" Tears continued to fall as memories pushed their way to the forefront of this mind: his mother laughing at dinner only an hour before. His brother Wes teaching him how to play the new pianoforte their family had just bought the month prior. His father teaching him about their black-bloodline and the powers that came with it the night before.

And then everything was gone, ripped from him in the span of a half-hour. What had once been a powerful kingdom was now in the process of being razed to the ground by a group of terrorists.

The whistling sound was the only warning the prince had before pain bloomed in his side. With a wail, Soul collapsed, clutching at his side and the arrow impaled therein. Blood as black as midnight dripped to the ground, the evening light dancing off of each drop. He hadn't even heard them getting closer!

"I got 'em!" the man from before, Norman, called over the sound of the dogs.

"Really?!" Hendrick yelled, barging toward his comrade and their prey. Soul turned, raising his arms in what he knew was a futile defense. Hendrick was upon him in an instant, his sword coming down to cleave across the prince's torso from left shoulder to right hip. The boy stumbled backward in a spray of black and a gasp.

"No," Soul wheezed weakly, trying to stay on his feet as he prayed to Death and his Holy Weapons. "No. Not like this. Please not like this. Don't let it end like this." He prayed for help, a miracle, something to save him from the Hell his life had become. Something inside him snapped.

He would never know if it was stress or despair or destiny, but everything seemed to change. A warm feeling bubbled up from inside Soul's gut, filling his being. A yellow glow covered the area, emanating from the wounded boy as his form twisted and changed. He clattered to the ground.

Everything was different. Soul threw his head back and forth, but there was nothing but an inky darkness on all sides. A quick check found that his injuries were still present, but they were not bleeding and he couldn't feel them. Looking up, he could see a glimmer of the red sky through the canopy of trees. The bowman, Norman, came into view, his face glaring down at the prince's window.

"Bloody monster used its shape-shifting magic," he muttered. Reaching down, the man tried to grasp something only to reel back with a blackened hand. "Tch. Damn demon magic shocked me. Not like he'll be going anywhere with that poisoned arrow I struck 'im with or that cut you gave 'im, though. Looks like our work here is done."

It was all too much for the young prince, the weight of all that had happened coming to him all at once. He closed his eyes and knew no more...

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It's amazing what 300 years can to to a single area of land. The history of any place can be lost almost as fast as it is created, but the legends and myths will find some way to continue. The knowledge of the existence of the race known as Weapons, or negatively as Demon Weapons, and any belief in magic had long since been forgotten, fading into nothing but rumors and fairytales and hearsay. Great kingdoms grew to replace the old, knowing nothing of their predecessors.

Now is the era of the powerful Albarn Kingdom, a country that had grown over the last 100 years with the downfall of the previous rulers. The Albarn family, however, was only two people strong despite the respect they held. These two were King Spirit Albarn and his beloved daughter, Princess Maka. Maka's mother, Queen Kami, had passed away from sickness some years before, leaving a heartbroken king to raise their young child.

King Spirit had not taken the Queen's death well. He turned to the drink and, when that failed, to the company of women to alleviate his loneliness, even if only for a short time. He became overprotective of his only child, forbidding her from going outside of her chambers without one of his trusted to escort her and, under no circumstances, was she allowed outside of the castle.

But a headstrong spirit like the princess' would not be denied. For all the King's protectiveness, he was surprisingly Lazie Fare. He trusted his daughter to stay within the castle and for the servants to inform him if she tried to leave. Little did he know that his beloved Maka had her own network, a group of servants she would trust with her secret journeys into the wilderness behind the castle.

It was on one such journey that everything changed.

Princess Maka was a pretty girl of 14 years with soft brown hair that she kept in twin pigtails and emerald-green eyes. She wandered through the underbrush with a book tucked under one arm, being careful not to ruin her knee-length green dress; it wouldn't do if her Papa learned of her adventures.

She had been in the fresh spring wind for nearly an hour, a new record for her in both time and distance. Looking around her, the girl took notice of the base of the Great Oak, a tree so tall that it stuck out of the forest like a beacon. The rumors she'd heard from the servants said that the tree was more than 300 years old and that there was an amazing treasure buried somewhere near it. Many a treasure hunter had come looking for the rumor's origin, but all had left empty-handed. Even so, some still claimed that there was indeed a treasure; that they had found it but were unable to remove it. The princess pushed ahead, moving past the Great Oak and two dozen feet forward, only for a flash of light to attract her attention.

Bending down, Maka reached forward to brush dirt and leaves from her find, uncovering a pole of what seemed to be steel about as long as she was tall. Following the pole, she uncovered a blade as well. The blade itself was of red and black, the colors split down the blade in a zigzaging pattern with the red on top. The blade was connected at the top of the pole by a wider area decorated with an eye-like design, also of red and black. It was a scythe.

The princess marveled at her find. For an item having been buried in the ground, the weapon was cleaner than any she had seen in the castle's armory. Grasping the handle, the girl lifted the item up off the ground. Upon turning it over, the back of the scythe was shown to be a mirror image of the front and the rest of the dirt fell away without leaving a single trace behind.

It was surprisingly light, the girl thought, for a weapon made of steel. A warmth came over her being from her hands, a feeling of oneness, and she decided to keep it. Hoisting the weapon over her shoulder, the princess began to return to the castle in the distance.

"Oh my, Princess," Tsubaki giggled as her long-time friend and mistress returned with a scythe of all things. "What have you brought back with you?" Tsubaki was a maid that stood a head taller than the princess she served, having three years more in age than the royal. The young woman was of Eastern heritage, her family having moved into the Albarn Kingdom a handful of generations ago, giving her an exotic look that had men craning their necks to see her. She was hailed as the most beautiful of the maids with her long, black hair that brushed the base of her back in a ponytail and a perfect figure only partially hidden by the maid outfit she wore. Many a man, both staff and guests, had tried to woo her, but each had left disappointed. It appeared someone already owned the young maid's heart.

"I found this by the Great Oak Tree," the princess answered, moving the weapon to show off what she'd found. "I decided to keep it."

"Well I can't stop you," the maid chuckled, gesturing to the passageway back into the castle with perfectly-schooled features. It was a secret servant tunnel connected to a system that ran throughout the building. The tunnel was build with the castle during a time when servants were to be neither seen nor heard when they were moving from room to room, so most walls were basically hollow. Use of the tunnels had since been deemed unnecessary, but most still used it for the shortcuts it provided. Smiling at her friend, the princess and maid entered the tunnel.

The way into the building proper was a narrow, circular staircase built to fit between hallways. The stairs' entrances and exits were placed at 200 foot intervals, hidden passageways with locking mechanisms on the inside to disable the hidden buttons on the outside. Coming to the exit closest to the princess' chambers, Tsubaki opened the hidden door and glanced outside to confirm that the coast was clear before letting her mistress by. Maka quickly filed down the dozen steps to her doorway before entering.

The princess' chambers were well-fitted, but still plain. A plush bed sat near the middle of the room, its headboard pressed against the leftmost wall and the mattress covered by plain blue sheets. Two bookcases rested on the opposite wall to the bed, the written word there about anything and everything. To the immediate left upon entrance was a simple desk with several quills and ink pots for writing if the princess so chose and, on the far wall, was a large window that faced the sunrise. To the left of the bed was a wooden door that led to her personal bathroom. Maka's pet cat, Blair, a purple feline that had lived in the castle longer than anyone could remember, was absent. If the princess were to guess her whereabouts, she'd say the cat was probably hunting mice out in the castle's pumpkin patch.

"Is there anything else you need, Maka?" Tsubaki questioned, stepping into the room with her friend.

"If you see Sid, could you please tell him to come see me tomorrow morning? I would like his help with something." Tsubaki bowed in response and took her leave. Sid was the castle's blacksmith, a talented man of almost 30 years and the oldest of Princess Maka's trusted. Now left alone with only her thoughts, the fading sunlight, and her new weapon, the princess walked over to the bed, slid the scythe underneath to where it would be hidden, laid down, and closed her eyes.

With a deep breath, the young girl drifted off to sleep, unaware of the significance that day would hold.

* * *

Princess Maka awoke early the morning after her discovery, the faint glow of the rising sun filtering in thorough the window. She groaned, futility trying to stave off the light. When that failed, she pushed herself into a sitting position and yawned loudly, stretching. She was still in her green dress from the day before, but someone had apparently come in to tuck her into bed since the sheets were no longer under her. She had awoken just in time as a soft knocking lightly rattled the hinges of the door.

"Princess," a gruff, male voice grunted from the other side. "You wished to see me?"

"Please, come in." The door opened to show a tall, dark-skinned man dressed in a simple pair of long pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a blacksmith's apron. A white bandana was tied around his forehead, holding his dreadlocks out of his face. Muscles from working in the forges rippled under his clothing as he took a few steps into the room.

"What can I do for you, Your Highness?" Sid asked.

"Oh, drop the formalities, Sid," Maka waved off, rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes. "You know how I feel about those when no one's around."

"Of course, Maka," Sid corrected himself. "Anyway, you called?"

"I did-? Oh, right. One moment." Maka scrambled out of her bed and knelt down, pulling the scythe she had found in the woods the day prior out into the open. Sid's eyes widened as the princess carried the weapon over to him. He reached out tentatively before pulling back, never touching the object.

"What? W-Where did you find this?"

"I found it in the woods yesterday," the girl answered. "I managed to go out past the Great Oak and found this scythe buried under some leaves and dirt. I was hoping you could tell me about it." She held out the weapon with one hand in a way that shouldn't have been possible with an item of its apparent weight and her body type.

"May I...?"

"Of course." The blacksmith reached out to grasp the handle of the weapon, but as soon as the princess released her hold, the weapon's weight increased exponentially. Sid was dragged to the floor by the heavy scythe and, try as he might, the blacksmith could not pick it up.

Maka laughed. "Wow, Sid! I didn't know you were one for jokes!"

"I'm not," the dark-skinned man grunted, still trying to lift the weapon. He was able to pull the handle up, but the blade stayed firmly grounded. "I'm not the kind of man that makes jokes."

"But," Maka blinked, "that scythe is as light as a feather. Are you telling me that you're too weak to lift it?"

"As light as a feather?" the man balked. "Not at all. You must have been doing strength training with Captain Black*Star if you think this weapon is light."

"Well, here. Let me show you." Maka's hands moved forward, grabbing the base of the weapon and lifting it from the ground without any sign of strain. "See?"

Sid gaped and a legend from his late master came to the forefront of his mind. "Soul Weapon," he gasped.

"Did you say something, Sid?" Maka asked, still holding the scythe without a problem.

"It's a legend that my old master once told me. He said that there are weapons out there called Soul Weapons. No one knows where they came from or how to forge them. They look like ordinary weapons and come in all varieties, and only certain people can wield each, but those that can are able to perform great feats of battle unlike any other. And, so the legend goes, no one can wield any two Soul Weapons, even if they are the same type. If the legends are true, then you may have found yourself a Soul Weapon that only you can lift."

"Wow," Maka marveled, inspecting her find in a new light. "Hey, Sid. Could you install a couple of bars over my bed to hold this? I'd like to keep it close on hand."

"Sure," the blacksmith replied, "if you'll let me run some tests. I've always wanted to see a Soul Weapon for myself."

"No problem," Maka waved off. "Heck, maybe I'll have Black*Star teach me how to use this. It might alleviate some of dad's worries about protecting me."

"I'd say that's a good idea," Sid nodded. "I can have the mounts up by the end of the day, so why don't you go track down Black*Star and talk to him about training? The bars will be there when you get back, that's the kind of work ethic I have."

"Alright!" Maka chirped, leaning the scythe against the wall, "but I have to bathe first. Go on down and get the stuff you need. I'll be gone by the time you get back." She all but skipped over to her personal bathroom and shut the door tightly. Sid waited a moment until he heard the sound of running water before he edged over to the weapon. He began examining it.

"It's all true," Sid mumbled to himself, running his hand over the blade. "This blade is sharper than any I've ever seen. And the seamless flow from blade to handle, that shouldn't be physically possible. The craftsmanship that it would take to make a weapon like this would be god-like. I'll have to run more tests; that's just the kind of man I am." Finally, the blacksmith went to take his leave, nodding to Tsubaki on his way out. The maid had been about to enter when he opened the door.

"Oh, Sid," Tsubaki greeted. "I didn't expect you to be here so early."

"You know the kind of man I am," Sid waved off. "I'm glad I came, though. It seems that our princess has found herself a Soul Weapon."

"A what?" the servant gasped, her face taking on a look of terror for only a second before schooling into calm surprise.

"A Soul Weapon," the blacksmith repeated, causing the young woman to flinch again. "Do you know anything about them?"

"N-No," Tsubaki denied much too quickly, waving her hands in front of her face to hide a faint grey tinge. "My parents told stories of heroes with w-weapons like that, but they're j-just myths! Th-They aren't real!"

"Well apparently they are," Sid rebuffed. "One of them is right there." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to where the scythe sat silently.

"W-Well I guess so," Tsubaki responded, edging around the man and gently pushing him out of the room. "Thank you for meeting with the princess so early. Bye!" She closed the door in the blacksmith's face before he could answer and leaned against the wood. Sid was still on the other side before his quiet footsteps began retreating down the hallway. The maid let out a sigh as she turned to the immobile weapon.

"I can't believe it," she whispered, eyeing the scythe. "Mom and Dad said that all the Scythes were killed during the Weapon Purge 300 years ago. I know that we don't age while in Weapon form, but 300 years..." She shuffled over to the item and ran a hand along the blunt edge of the blade. Her fingers tingled with an electric feeling, confirming her suspicions. "I can't imagine what you've had to endure, Your Highness, but what does your coming mean?"

The sounds of running water and splashing stopped, causing the maid to jerk away from the Weapon and hurry to the princess' wardrobe where she pulled out undergarments and a pale blue dress that fell just short of the knees. She shuffled over to the bathroom and cracked the door, allowing a good bit of steam to filter out the the top.

"Maka," the servant whispered so as to not startle the younger girl. "I have your clothes for the day."

"Thank you, Tsubaki," the princess replied, toweling her hair dry. She took the clothes and pulled them on before sweeping past her friend and over to the weapon. The princess lifted it without preamble, leaning it over her shoulder and walking to the door.

"Ah, Maka," Tsubaki called, striding over to stand by her mistress. "If I may be so bold, where are you taking that weapon?"

"This?" Maka questioned. "I've decided that, since it seems I'm the only one that can lift it, I'll have Black*Star teach me how to use it."

"Are you sure that is wise? Some say that Soul Weapons bare cursed magic and a mind of their own."

"...How did you know it was a Soul Weapon?" Maka turned to face her friend.

"Ah, Sid told me," Tsubaki answered with a startled gasp. Maka's eyes bored into the servant for a few seconds, but, just as Tsubaki was about to start fidgeting, the princess relented.

"Well, if nothing else, I might be able to get my father to let me out of the castle freely." Maka shrugged and stepped into the hallway, leaving Tsubaki to let out a silent breath of relief before following.

Maka's chamber was on the third floor of the eastern side of Castle Albarn, meaning that it could take quite a bit of travel time to reach anywhere else in the castle. The princess chose to use the hallways rather than the servants' passageways on account of her new scythe, adding a good ten minutes to the duo's decent through the building. The servants they passed sent them odd looks, not because seeing the princess was anything odd, but the princess carrying a weapon certainly was. If they weren't mistaken, Tsubaki looked ill-at-ease as well.

"So, Tsubaki," Maka called, descending down a flight of stairs. "It's about eight, so Black*Star should be at the training grounds by now, right?"

"Ah, yes, Princess," the maid answered, trying to hide the grey of her cheeks.

"That is to say, if he didn't oversleep," Maka laughed.

"I'm sure Captain Black*Star would not shirk his training just for a nap so early in the morning, Princess." Finally reaching the first floor, the two girls took a detour through the kitchens to swipe a couple of apples before making their way out to the training grounds. Already outside were most of the castle's knights that weren't on duty, training themselves.

In the middle of a dueling ring was a young man with spiky light-blue hair. He was dressed in traditional knight armor, but had forgone the helmet and the breastplate for freedom of both eyesight and movement. The lack of a breastplate revealed the cloth covering his chainmail which bore a black pentogram over a blue background the same color as his hair. In his hands was a chainscythe, one bladed end a blur as he used it to stave off the four knights circling him with the other blade in his left hand.

With a battle cry, one of the circling knights charged toward the back of the man in the center, his sword brought up for an overhead strike. The center knight's eyes snapped to him, the chainscythe's chain coming up to catch the downward swing before the man wrapped the chain around the blade. In an impressive show of dexterity, the blue-haired knight flipped over the other, ripping the sword out of the attacker's hand and spinning to kick the aggressor in the side of the head. With a groan, the foolish knight slumped unconscious, his sword sticking into the ground beside him.

The fight relapsed into a lull in the action, a servant carefully entering the ring to drag the downed man out of the arena but leaving his sword. The three regular knights gathered on one side of the circle, facing the remaining blue-haired man.

"Come on!" the lone knight yelled, gesturing widely with his weapon. "If you small fry can't beat me together, what hope to you have against anyone else?!" The knights, seemingly offended, glanced at each other before charging as one.

The blue-haired man smirked, waiting for the trio to approach. They never got very far. The lone man rolled to the left, his chainscythe shooting out to wrap around the abandoned sword. The knight dashed forward, the chain of his weapon sweeping forward to pull the legs out from his three opponents. The trio screamed, their momentum dragging their top halves forward even as the chain stopped their legs. They fell, rolling out of the ring.

"Last lesson for today," the victorious knight said, a lash freeing his weapon from where the end had wrapped around the stuck sword. "Don't fall for your enemy's taunts. When you fall for them, you lose control of the battle. Remember that." The other three knights, seemingly disappointed, nodded and shuffled off, their servants walking over to them. The lone knight laughed boisterously before his eyes landed on the princess and her maid.

"Princess Maka," he greeted, striding proudly toward the two women. "Tsubaki. What can a man like the great Black*Star do for you this day?" Now that they had a closer look, Maka and Tsubaki could see that Captain Black*Star was around their age with dark eyes. A slight sheen of sweat glimmered on his forehead and the visible chainmail on his torso shimmered.

"I need your help," Maka stated, lowering the scythe in her hand from her shoulder so the handle rested on the ground and the blade was extended away from her. "I need you to teach me how to use this."

"And why is that, Princess?" the captain questioned. "Not that I can't. The great Black*Star can teach anyone! But why do you want to?"

"I talked to Sid about it. Apparently, this scythe is what's called a Soul Weapon, so I'm the only one that can wield it."

"Ha!" the knight laughed. "As if there's a weapon out there that the great Black*Star can't wield! Let me see that!" Black*Star held out his hand, an arrogant smirk on his face. The princess sighed, long use to the captain's antics and quirks. Sure, Black*Star had earned his title through hard work and dedication with a little bit of natural skill, but his ego was something of a mystery. Lifting her scythe, the princess held it out for the weapon for the man to take.

Black*Star gripped the weapon for only a second before the weight got to him, holding it up for that long through brute strength alone. Still, the scythe became too heavy for the captain who was forced to drop the weapon or else be dragged down with it.

"Well I'll be damned," he muttered, watching the princess bend down and lift the weapon. He smirked. "Lucky for you, I know how to use every weapon we have in the castle's armory, scythes included. When do you want to start, Your Highness?"

Maka smirked. "Right now."

**End of Chapter 1**

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**Read and Review, and check out my main story: Coby's Choice, a One Piece fanfiction!**

**-SwordOfTheGods**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

King Spirit Albarn sat on his throne, bored. There were several advisors and heads of guilds sitting at a table before him, bickering over policies and politics, and he hated it. It wasn't interesting.

The king was a taller man in his early 30's with a lean frame. His blood-red hair fell to just brush his shoulders and his green eyes sat half-lidded. He was dressed in kingly attire in the form of black pants made of cotton, a blue dress shirt, and a purple, fur-lined cape. A crown of gold with alternating rubies and sapphires rested on his head, said head resting on the palm on his left hand. The king sighed and glanced out the window on his left where he could see his knights training.

In the centermost ring far below, Spirit could make out Black*Star's distinctive hair color. He was facing another person around his height, both he and the unknown figure each holding a scythe. Spirit blinked. He didn't remember there being any new recruits in any of the reports he'd read over the past week, but that wasn't really surprising with the amount of reports that passed him on a daily basis. No, what was surprising was the choice of weapon. Few, if any, of his current knights used scythes because they needed open space to be effective, so fighting in halls would be difficult if not impossible.

Of course, he knew that Black*Star was proficient with scythes; the young Captain had mastered every weapon he could get his hands on simply because he wanted to be the best at everything. The other person, however, looked nothing like a knight now that the king thought about it. They were wearing what looked like a blue tunic from that distance and had soft brown hair. If he squinted, Spirit was able to make out pig... tails...

"Maka?!" The king's sudden gasp caught the debating men in the room off guard, bringing their discussion to a floundering halt. Spirit abandoned his seat and royal coat, rushing to the window and pressing his face against it. Down below, Maka mirrored Black*Star's movements, turning her bladed weapon in a slow circle.

What did she think she was doing?! Weapons are dangerous! Spirit had been sure that he'd told her to never pick up a weapon! And what the Hell was she doing outside the castle?!

His duties and expected mannerisms forgotten, King Spirit bolted from the room, leaving the door flapping on its hinges in his haste. The king ran the entire way down to the training grounds without pause. The door to the outside nearly busted as it disgourged the red-haired king at a flat-out sprint.

"MAAAAAKAAAAAAA!"

"Get down!" Black*Star yelled, everyone within hearing range following the order and flinging themselves away from the man's path. Maka, too, threw herself to the ground, barely avoiding the flying tackle/hug her father was trying to catch her with. The king's momentum carried him forward into a training dummy, straw and wood flying as the man collided with the poor object. The king and the dummy went down in a cloud of dust.

"What was that about?" Black*Star asked, eyeing the cloud as Maka and Tsubaki walked over to him, also watching the pile for movement.

"King Spirit does this whenever he believes that his daughter is in danger," Tsubaki offered. At her side, Maka grumbled something about flying birthday pastries. "And sometimes when she's not," Tsubaki added. The dust cloud shifted, clearing away to reveal the king covered in dust and straw, standing with his hands on his hips and a mix of anger, relief, and some other unknown emotion on his face.

"Maka?" the girl's father questioned. "What is the meaning of this? What are you doing outside of the castle with a scythe?"

"I am learning to defend myself," the princess answered stiffly, undeterred by the older man's sharp gaze.

"And why would you need to defend yourself?" Spirit asked. "We have knights for that."

Maka sighed. "Listen, Papa." Spirit seemed to melt, something that happened whenever his daughter used that name for him. Unfortunately, he still stood firm on matters when he believed them to influence Maka's safety. "Look, Papa, Sid called this thing a Soul Weapon. I'm the only one that can lift it."

"So?"

"So," Maka continued, annoyed, "I am not just going to let it go and waste away up in my chambers. I want to learn."

"I will not let you," the king denied. "Weapons are too dangerous. And a person of your stature and state should not be training to be a warrior."

"You cannot stop me, Papa. I have made up my mind."

"I said no," Spirit reaffirmed, holding out his hand. "Give it here."

Maka smirked, having seen this situation twice before. She handed over her weapon and watched with stifled laughter as the king was dragged roughly to the dirt. There was scattered laughter from the knights, but that was quickly silenced by a general glare from the king. He pulled, trying to drag the bladed weapon away.

"Yeowch!" he cried, dropping the weapon as it shocked him. He growled and stomped on the scythe only for another charge to jump through him. "This blade is cursed!" the king declared, his voice falling into a kingly tone. "I know not where you got this, Maka, but it is messing with your mind! I am locking it away."

"You can try," the princess responded, "but there is no one here that could lift it save for I."

"Impossible," Spirit denied. "No mere weapon could best a courtyard of knights."

"But this is no mere weapon, Papa," Maka replied. "Why don't we make a bet? I will give up learning to wield this scythe if any man here can carry it to the armory. But if they cannot, if no man can accomplish that, then you will not interfere in my practice."

The king seemed to think on it. His head tilted, weighing the risk, before he seemed to come to a decision.

"Fine," Spirit answered. "We will have this wager. Men!" The knights snapped to attention. "I will not force you to try and take part in our bet, but the person who manages to fulfill my end, that is to say, the one who carries this scythe to the armory, shall be allowed to purchase all new equipment without worry of cost. I will pay for their armor and weapon personally."

The knights, who had previously shied away from the argument between the royals, suddenly clambered forward, the promise of personal armor without price drawing them like moths to a flame. A minute of small arguments and scuffles resulted in a disorderly but recognizable line leading to the blade on the ground. Only a handful of knights, including Black*Star, did not join. They watched as each warrior attempted to lift the weapon, but the furthest any of the knights got was lifting the handle and dragging the blade a few inches before being shocked.

"Captain Black*Star?" the king questioned, knowing of both the boy's immense physical strength and his drive to be the best. "Will you not take part in this contest of strength? This is not like you."

"I already tried, Your Majesty," the man responded, his boisterous ego gone in the face of his king. "I could only hold it for a second, and that was because it was handed to me. I am not too big a man to deny that I failed." Spirit frowned. It seemed he would be losing this wager.

Near the end of the courtyard, a purple cat moved through an open window, jumping down onto the grass

"I do not like this," the king growled, the last of the knights having already failed in their quest. "An unliftable weapon reeks of magic. And you know of the sigma of Witches."

"But it is not unliftable," the princess rebuffed, reclaiming her weapon from the ground without problem. "As you can see, I am able to lift it."

"That does nothing but make it worse," Spirit muttered. "Very well. You have my permission to continue these," he grimaced, "training sessions, but I want you to speak to Stein at least once a week to be sure there are no negative effects."

He was, of course, speaking of the court physician Frankin Stein, a man who had been a doctor in a neighboring kingdom until they drove him out for experimenting on criminals. Spirit's father, the previous king, had welcomed him in for his expertise on the condition that he stave off his want of experimentation except for criminals bound for execution. Since then, crime rates had dropped dramatically, resulting in the good doctor experimenting on himself.

Maka scowled. She did not like Stein very much; he was rather creepy and a bit crazy, but if it was necessary...

"Fine," she relented. "I'll do it." A startled look came over Spirit's face. Apparently he didn't think that his daughter would accept that condition, but he quickly schooled his features.

"Good, but, ah, take a knight or two whenever you go." He nodded before walking off, glancing back every few steps. Finally, he left, allowing the princess to release a breath she didn't know she he been holding.

"Man!" Black*Star laughed. "You must really want this training if you're agreeing to go see that weirdo!"

"Whatever," the princess scowled. "Let's just-" There was a pawing at her leg. "Oh. Hello, Blair." She bent down, setting aside her weapon to pick the cat up. The feline glanced at the scythe as if in confusion before wiggling out of Maka's hold. Landing on all fours, Blair walked over to the blade and tapped on the metal. There was a shimmer, causing the cat to jump back. For only a moment, an outline of a human seemed to appear in the blade before the image faded. Cocking her head, the cat wearily approached and tapped the scythe again, but nothing happened.

"Oh dear, would you look at that?" Tsubaki announced quickly. "It's almost lunchtime! We should hurry, Princess. We don't want to miss getting the fresh ingredients!" Tsubaki swept up the purple animal, not letting go even though it struggled. She hurried off with Blair in her arms.

"Huh?" Black*Star grunted. "What's got her so riled up?"

"I don't know," Maka shrugged. "She's been acting funny since I found the scythe."

"You think it's something to do with that?"

"I'm not sure," Maka answered, "but I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

* * *

Tsubaki would answer none of her questions. Try as she might, Maka was never able to pry an actual response from her maid. She'd answer with shrugs, deflections, and "I don't know"s, none of which the princess believed for a second. Even so, Maka chose to drop the matter, but she never stopped watching the older girl whenever the scythe was involved, which was quite often since the princess had started carrying it whenever she wanted to go out. It was a combination of endless pestering and Black*Star's good reports that finally caused King Spirit to crack and allow Maka to go out into the town, but she was only allowed out if she had her weapon with her. And, of course, Tsubaki was expected to be at her side.

Despite the happiness of her newfound freedom, Maka was still wary of her maid's lies and redirections. The princess sometimes caught Tsubaki staring at the weapon when she thought no one was watching, a look of sad confusion on her face. And whenever a cat hissed at the scythe or light glinted off of it, the maid would flinch as if expecting it to explode.

Three months of this passed. Maka's skill in handling the scythe was prodigious and soon she was at a level capable of defeating nearly all of the knights around her. Only Black*Star maintained a perfect record against the young princess. She never went to see Stein and her father never mentioned it, so he probably hadn't checked it with the physician either, which was just as well. Still, Maka was convinced Tsubaki knew something about her weapon that she did not, so she set a trap...

"Princess," the maid called, opening the door to Maka's chamber at half past seven like she did every morning, and stepped into the room. The last three months had been some of the most stressful of her young life and she felt like that day would be no different. The maid lived in constant fear that the Scythe her mistress had found would awaken and transform at the most inopportune time, revealing the existence of Weapons to the common people after 300 years of hiding. She knew it would happen one day; Maka's soul and that of the Weapon would connect in a Resonance at some point, rousing the Weapon from its slumber. Not only would she not know what to tell her mistress, but what would she say to the Scythe, one of the royal line thought to have been killed off during the Weapons Purge? Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Tsubaki took another step into the room.

Maka's chamber was orderly as it always was, but the bedsheets were crumpled. The Scythe now rested at an angle over the head of the bed, supported by two arched bars set into the wall, one where the blade met the handle and the other a foot down to hold it in place. The tops of both bars were open to allow removal of the weapon. The princess, however, was not to be seen.

"Maka?" Tsubaki questioned. "Where are you?" The door creaked, closing behind her. The maid whirled around to find her friend and mistress leaning on the door, already fully clothed for the day in a short dress to allow free leg movement in a red color.

"Tsubaki," Maka stated, no room for denial in her tone. "You will answer my questions."

"I-I've already said I d-don't know anything."

"We both know that's a lie, Tsubaki. Now what's going on?"

"Please, Maka," Tsubaki begged, backing up a couple steps. "Don't ask this of me. You may not like the answers. Just forget that I know anything."

"Tsubaki..." Maka glared at her friend. "You know I don't like pulling the Royal card on my friends, but so help me..."

"Maka..." Tsubaki whimpered before relenting under her superior's stare. "Please. Promise me that what you learn won't affect things between us."

"I promise, Tsubaki," the princess agreed. "Does this have something to do with my scythe?"

The maid sighed. "Yes, it does. I take it you've asked Sid about the Soul Weapon Legends?"

"Some of them. I've heard about King Arthur and his sword Excalibur, Thor and his Thunder Hammer Miölnir, and Perseus and his sword Riptide. What do you know that everyone else doesn't?"

"I know where they came from. The Weapons, that is." Maka's eyes widened, but Tsubaki rushed forward before she could comment. "Long ago, Soul Weapons had another name. They were called Demon Weapons."

"Demon Weapons?" Maka parroted. "Why were they called that?"

"It's because they ate souls." Maka gasped, her eyes flashing to the still scythe over her bed. "No, no," Tsubaki denied before the girl could ask her question. "You're safe. They only eat corrupt souls. Oh, Death, I'm not explaining this very well."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Well, they, or maybe we? Souls haven't been very prominent in culture... ah... s-so Weapons... um. They're sort of... ah, mixes? Um..."

"Spit it out, Tsubaki!" Maka ordered.

"They're hybrids!" the maid all but shouted. "Magical hybrids! Weapons are people who can turn into weapons!" Maka gaped, allowing the older girl to push ahead. "300 years ago, there were powerful clans of Weapons, with a capital W. Each family could turn into a particular form. There were Bow-and-Arrows, Swords, Hammers, Gauntlets, and more. The ruling family, the Evans, they were Scythes." Tsubaki trailed off, turning to look at the Weapon over the princess' bed with a sad look. "They were renowned for their musical ability and latent strength. It's said that only those with the strongest of souls could wield them."

"But 300 years would place them near the end of the Lost Century," Maka whispered. "What happened?"

(The Lost Century, despite its name, was actually a much longer time period. No one really knows when it began, though scholars argue about whether it began 600 or 700 years ago, but its end was just under 300 years ago. This leaves a period of 300 to 400 years where all written history was lost to the masses of the world. It is rumored that there are sects and cults that know the true history, but none have come forward.)

"They were slaughtered," Tsubaki responded in an equally quiet voice. "The clans were slaughtered. The common people, they feared the Weapons and the meisters that used them. There are things that you need to know about the world then to understand why the Weapons were so important. The Weapons, they worshipped the god of death and believed that he had bestowed their bloodline powers on them for the purpose of protecting the souls of humanity. Souls are the essence of a person that passes on when they die, but there are methods to keep a soul in the realm of the living.

"There were monsters known as Kishins, people who strayed from the path of humanity and ate human souls for power. The Weapons and their meisters would track down the Kishins and slay them, saving lives and eating the Kishins' souls to become stronger in return. It was believed that if a Weapon ate enough Kishin Eggs, or the souls of weaker Kishins, then they would become powerful enough to be wielded by Death himself and become one of his Holy Weapons when they passed. If their soul wasn't eaten by a Kishin before then, that is. It was the dream of all Weapons to be wielded by Death and it brought glory, fame, and riches to the meister that made them that powerful. Death cannot wield all of his Holy Weapons at once, so the meisters were said to become his lieutenants upon their passing.

"But like I said, the common people feared the Weapons. They were afraid that the Weapon families would be corrupted and attack them, so they struck first. To be honest, it wasn't a completely unfounded fear, the stories mention maybe a half-dozen Weapons that became some of the most dangerous Kishins after going rouge. Still, the common people the Weapons at large had sworn to protect rebelled against them suddenly. The kingdom of Weapons was razed to the ground. It was believed that all of the royal family was assassinated and most of the warriors were killed. Those that survived went into hiding, passing on their bloodline and the lesson to stay hidden, lest the people fear and kill them, too."

"Tsubaki?" Maka questioned. "How do you know all this?"

In response, the maid hesitantly reached back to take hold of her ponytail, bringing it around so it flowed over her shoulder. The hair began to glow, glimmering for only a second before the light faded to reveal one end of a chainscythe, the chains gradually turning into hair as they went up.

"I know because I'm a Dark Arm Weapon like my father before me. I can become a chainscythe, a fuuma shuriken, a ninja sword, and a smoke bomb."

Maka stared, her hand reaching out of its own accord to grasp the steel hanging from her maid's hair. She lifted it, inspecting the metal. It shimmered in the morning light, allowing the princess to see her own shocked reflection on the blade. Maka blinked, realization seeming to dawn on her.

"Wait. You said that all of the Scythes were killed 300 years ago."

"No," Tsubaki denied, taking her hair-turned-weapon back and undoing the transformation. "I said they were believed to have been killed. Weapons like me, we don't age when in our other forms. We don't need food or water or sleep. We can't move on our own without a Soul Partner, but we can pause death until we can get help. The royal there, they've been in their weapon form for almost 300 years if my theory is correct, waiting."

"But why?" the younger girl asked. "Why would someone wait that long."

"I don't think they know. Weapons can talk by vibrating their metal instinctively and can project an image of their soul in the reflection of the blade. The Scythe hasn't done any of that, so it may be that they're in a coma or heavily wounded."

"Or both," Maka agreed. She seemed to be taking the news rather well. "Why am I the only one that can pick them up?"

"Meister and Weapon bonds were special," Tsubaki answered. "The souls of the two had to be compatible for a person to even hold a weapon, so it could take a Weapon years to find the right meister depending on their personality and soul wavelength. My mother, she had the ability to see souls and she told me that I could be wielded by almost anyone because of my gentle nature, but the Scythe..."

"How do we figure out what gender they are? It's getting annoying not knowing if they're a boy or girl. Is there a way to find out without forcing them to change?"

"I suppose," Tsubaki thought aloud. "I may be able to run a Soul Charge through the blade to show the soul within, but I have only the most basic knowledge, so it might not work."

"Do it," Maka ordered. She rushed over to the Weapon and lifted it off of the pegs, carrying it over to her apparently-not-fully-human maid. Tsubaki reached out, a small amount of blue sparks starting to dance over the fingers of her right hand. She placed it on the blade, light bouncing off the surface before vanishing to show the person within.

It was a boy with wild white hair and pale skin. His eyes were closed and he seemed to hang limp in a black void. He was without clothing, revealing his toned torso and the gash he had from his left shoulder to right hip that dwarfed the puncture wound in his side. He would twitch every few seconds, but he was not conscious. Tsubaki removed her hand, letting the image vanish.

"So he is injured," Maka muttered. "We should take him to Stein."

"What?!" Tsubaki cried. "Are you crazy? Stein would dissect him before healing him! This Scythe is an Evans, the last Prince of Weapons! We have to save him." She stopped, a single tear coming from her eyes. "At least I do; it's my duty as a Weapon to care for our royal family, even if there is only one."

"Hey," Maka responded, setting a hand on the older girl's shoulder. "Look at it this way: Stein would see him as more use alive than dead, right? That'd be more than enough reason for the man to heal him."

"Dear Lord Death, I hope you're right." A plan of action formed, the duo exited the princess' chambers with the Scythe, their course set for the west wing and the physician's room therein. The journey took about ten minutes, but soon the girls were standing in front of a plain wooden door with a dead snake nailed to it. Glancing at each other, Maka raised her hand and knocked. There was some sort of swearing on the other side before the sound of movement. The door opened.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, grumpy man with grey hair that hung past his ears. He wore a grey shirt and tan pants under a brown, wool robe and medical scars littered his visible skin. Dark eyes stared down at the duo, but the most intimidating thing about the physician was the large screw going through his head.

"Can I help you?" Frankin Stein asked, his left hand reaching up to twist the screw until there was a loud clunk. Maka and Tsubaki shivered at the sound, but the princess steeled her nerves and met the man's gaze.

"We have a patient for you."

"Oh?" the doctor questioned, raising an eyebrow. "And where is this patient?"

"That's a secret until you let us in." Stein stared at the smaller of the duo.

"Very well," he muttered, opening the door a little wider. "Bring this mysterious patient in." The two girls shuffled inside. The room was rather small with tables and shelves along the walls and stacked with jars of plants, various liquids, and the occasional pickled body part of some animal. A bed was shoved into one corner and a wooden chair that the man had managed to attach wheels to was pushed under one desk. An operating table sat at the center of the room. Seeing that, Maka strode forward and placed the Scythe on the table.

Stein's eyes seemed to light up.

"Oh, don't tell me!" he all but exclaimed, a smile growing on his face. "Were you able to find a legendary Demon Weapon?"

"You know about them?" Tsubaki gasped.

Stein nodded. "I don't need it often, but I'm well-versed in several Soul-Style martial arts, so I know about their origins." He reached out and grabbed the Scythe's handle with a grin on his face. The Weapon sparked twice before calming down, allowing the mad doctor to lift it, much to the girls' shock. "The soul of the person inside is off balance," he commented, inspecting the Weapon. "Both his mind and body are damaged. The fact he managed to transform was probably an accident and the fact that you can lift them, Princess, is a sign. Either way, the transformation saved their life. Now!" He smirked. "Let's start the operation!"

**End of Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

"So, uh," Maka stuttered. "H-How are you going to operate on him while he's a weapon?"

"Silly princess!" Stein scoffed playfully, fully absorbed in the high of fulfilling a dream. "I'm just going to manipulate his soul wavelength with my own to get him to change."

"You can do that?" Tsubaki gasped.

"I was hailed as something of a prodigy when it came to the Soul Arts," the doctor offered as explanation. "Here we go!"

There was a yellow flash of light before a person was resting on the table where the scythe had been lying. He looked to be around 15 or 16 with wild white hair and pale skin with a grey tinge. His height would place him just above Maka, only dwarfing her by two or three inches. He was dressed in what would have been very nice clothing, an embroidered green top, tan pants with a belt, and a headband decorated with small white wisps, if not for the giant slash and hole through the shirt and the black stains on it and the pants. Now that the boy was human once again, the blood from the open wounds began flowing freely

"So the rumors of black blood are true," Stein muttered to himself with a smirk, his hands grabbing various tools to work with including vials for blood samples and a needle and thread.

"Tsubaki?" Maka asked, turning away from the gruesome sight. "Why is his blood black?"

"It's the only sign of being a Weapon when in human form," the maid answered, not looking away from where the smiling doctor was working on saving the life of the last known Scythe. "All Weapons have black blood. No one knows why, but it was thought that our blood is partially oil to keep us from rusting. The truth was lost in the Weapons Purge at the end of the Lost Century."

"So if someone has black blood, then they're a weapon without a doubt?"

"From my understanding, yes," Tsubaki answered. "That's why I've always been so careful with sharp things. My blood is black as well."

"Did I hear that right?" Stein questioned, looking up from his stitching but not pausing. "You are a Weapon, maid?" Tsubaki nodded hesitantly. "What are you?"

"A D-Dark Arm."

"And you have yet to find a meister of your own? A real shame. And you, Princess? I take it you are this young man's meister?"

"I guess?" Maka answered. "I haven't even talked to him, yet."

"Yes, I suppose not." Taking a pair of scissors, the doctor snipped a length of thread, separating it from the length sewn into his patient's sword wound, before he reached out for a lit candle and held it over the boy. The wax dropped slowly, searing the remaining openings closed. The boy flinched, but made no other reactions to the rapidly-cooling wax. Turning away from his patient, Stein lifted a vial of blood the color of darkest night and shook it, his eyes narrowing.

"I haven't seen the Mad Plague Poison for several years," he commented, lowering the vial. "I guess it's a good thing I still have the antidote from when I tested it on myself." He dropped the vial on a stand and shuffled to one of the shelves. Picking a jar filled with a reddish substance, he pulled it down and moved back, pouring several drops into the puncture wound in the white-haired boy's side. The wound sizzled, literally, small wafts of steam rising from the injury in the shape of various types of snakes.

The boy gasped in pain, his body flinching. His eyelids flickered back and forth, his eyes underneath moving every which way as the pain pulled him toward consciousness. Stein ignored him, applying a sickly-green salve to the puncture wound that was now free of poison.

"That should do it," Stein stated, wiping his hands on his brown cloak. "Now the real fun begins."

The boy's eyes opened.

* * *

The buzzing was getting louder, Soul noted. Was this death? Was he to meet his god and join the rest of his family? If so, why did he still hurt?

"That should do it," a male voice said. "Now the real fun begins."

Real fun? What was happening? Who was that speaking? Soul opened his eyes and immediately regretted that action when light poured in, blinding him. He blinked several times, giving his red eyes time to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.

"He's coming to!" a female voice cheered. "The prince is coming to!"

"Now now, maid," the first voice commented. "Just because he's waking doesn't mean he'll be completely fine."

"You wouldn't understand, Doctor Stein, but this is a historic day for Weapon-kind."

"I fully understand the implications," the man, 'Doctor Stein', stated. "I probably understand them better than you do."

"How are you feeling?" a second female voiced asked. The question directed the prince's attention, pulling his eyes toward the source of the voice. To his right, he found a dirty-blonde girl with pigtails, a red dress, and big, green eyes watching him closely. Next to her stood the maid who was still arguing with the doctor whom Soul guessed was on his left.

"Where am I?" the white-haired Weapon croaked out, revealing his teeth to be sharpened into points. "Who are you?"

"I am Princess Maka Albarn," the girl answered with a hint of pride. "You're in the physician's quarters of Albarn Castle."

"Albarn? I've never heard that name before. Are... Are you part of a new royal family?"

"I suppose that depends on your definition of 'new'," the princess responded. "My great-grandfather established the kingdom 100 years ago, so I guess we're still pretty new."

"100 years?! What year is it?!" The prince sat up quickly, causing his wounds to send a stab of pain through his torso. He winced.

"Your Highness, please," the other woman begged, breaking off her augment with the physician to run to his bedside. "You're still gravely injured. Do not move too much."

"My wounds are nothing," Soul waved off, trying to shift off of the table. "I must get back to Weapon Kingdom. My family is in danger."

"Weapon Kingdom fell almost 300 years ago," the doctor threw in, causing the injured boy to freeze. "You've been in a Weapon-state coma for that long."

"300 years...?" Soul muttered, lying back on the table.

"Doctor Stein," the princess scolded, ignoring the turning of the man's screw. "Have you no tact? You cannot just drop such a statement on someone like that."

"But I did, so there's no point in pussyfooting around now."

"Doctor Stein?" Maka asked. "How long will it take his wounds to heal?"

"Weapons supposedly heal exponentially faster than regular humans, so he should be able to walk tomorrow and sprint in about a week."

"Please," Soul begged. "Who are you all? How did I get here?"

"I brought you here," Maka answered. "I found you in the woods and brought you back, though I thought you were just a regular scythe that only I could lift. I've been training to use you for three months now."

Soul turned to her, sizing her up, before forcing himself in to a kneeling position on top of the table.

"Your Highness!" the maid squeaked. "Your injuries-"

"You are my meister," he incanted, cutting the dark-haired girl off. "We Scythes each only ever accept one who can wield us unless Death forces us to part. Since my kingdom no longer exists, then I will pledge my life to you, Princess Maka Albarn. Please, use me wisely." He bowed, pressing his forehead into the table. Black blood dripped from where his stitches had broken from the movement, but the boy make no acknowledgement to his bleeding.

"Tsubaki?" Maka hissed lowly. "Is this normal for Weapons?"

"I don't know," the maid answered. "So few Weapons have found meisters in the last 300 years that many of the old traditions were lost from disuse."

"Doctor Stein?"

"I may have knowledge of the Soul Arts," the man responded, "but I am not a Weapon. I don't know their traditions."

"Please," Soul begged again. "Accept me as your servant so that I may have something after losing everything."

"I-I accept," Maka stuttered, fumbling for words and praying she wouldn't say something wrong. "Join me and become my Weapon... I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Soul. My name is Prince Soul Evans of Weapon Kingdom. Though I guess I'm not a prince anymore."

"You are still a prince to us, Your Majesty," the maid interjected, kneeling before the bowing prince. "Your family was always good to the Weapons; we will always accept you as our rulers."

"You-? Are you a Weapon?"

"Yes," the servant answered. "I am Tsubaki, a Dark Arm." Her hair shimmered, the ends becoming half of a chain scythe like they had when explaining to the princess earlier that day.

"A Nakatsukasa, then."

"A what?" Tsubaki blinked.

"A Nakatsukasa. That was the name of the Dark Arm Clan: the Nakatsukasa Clan."

"I... I did not know that," Tsubaki admitted. "I had been told that our clan name was lost a century ago."

"And now it has been found once more." He turned back to his meister, holding out a hand. "Now please, take my hand, Princess. In doing so, you will accept the bond of Weapon and meister, binding our souls in a connection that will last until one of us passes into the hands of Lord Death."

Maka hesitated for only a moment before taking the white-haired boy's hand. There was a flash of blinding light which engulfed the duo as their souls expanded and became visible. Soul's soul was a royal blue color on the outside, had a black center which represented his Weapon side, and the Evans' crest, two crossed scythes under a crown, imprinted on the side. The princess' soul was more of a straw color with two pig-tail-like protrusions at the top and also had a crest, a diagonal sword behind a simple castle.

The souls expanded until they met, the light becoming brighter than before as the spirits synchronized their wavelengths, forever binding the prince and princess as Weapon and meister. Soul began to glow as the light died, changing into his Weapon form.

Maka held him with more ease than ever before. She had thought he was light beforehand when she didn't know he was alive, but now she felt like she didn't even have to hold him. Acting without thinking, the princess held out her arms and released her hold on the Scythe.

Soul responded immediately. Without her grip holding him in place, the Scythe started to twirl around the body of his meister, coming within millimeters of slicing her flesh but never drawing blood. Tsubaki gasped is worry as she and Stein watched the display, but the doctor only watched with fascination, a quill in his hand dancing over a piece of parchment as he noted every detail of the exchange, the first recorded Bonding in over 300 years. Finally, after about 30 seconds of the impressive display, Soul rolled into Maka's hands once more where the girl used the leftover momentum to swing him over her shoulder.

"Not to be a downer," Stein spoke up, "but the Scythe isn't fully healed. He'll need to sleep in here since his wounds won't heal while in his Weapon form."

"He will not!" Tsubaki protested. "You would experiment on him!"

"Ah, n-no I wouldn't!" Stein tried to deny. Damn that truth serum he'd tested yesterday!

"Soul will be sleeping in my chambers," the princess finalized. "He is now my Weapon and it will be my job to care for him."

"While we're at it," Soul began, the sound coming from the blade of the Scythe, "you could tell me about what has changed in the world."

"Yes," Maka agreed, "that sounds like a good plan."

* * *

"I can't believe the world has changed so much," Soul muttered to himself. He was seated in a chair in Maka's chambers, mauling over all the information he'd just been given, with servants' clothing that Tsubaki had smuggled out for him to wear until something else could be acquired. The princess sat on her bed, Tsubaki standing next to her and Blair nowhere to be seen. They had just finished giving the Weapon Prince a brief overview of the modern world. "And Weapons have been persecuted all this time?"

"Not necessarily," Tsubaki answered. "We haven't been actively pursued, but we still live in constant fear of being found out. General knowledge of Weapons is kept only by the Weapons themselves, the few meisters out there, and a handful of people like Doctor Stein."

"And what of the Kishins? Where are they?"

"The only Kishins I've ever heard of were the ones from stories or legends. As far as I can tell, most Kishins died off with the knowledge of most Soul Arts. If human souls aren't kept from passing, then no one can eat them."

"It's hard to believe that there were monsters out there that ate human souls," Maka muttered. "What do souls even taste like?"

"I don't know, Princess," the maid replied. "Weapons have the innate ability to freeze the soul of whatever they kill in the living world, but I've never tried."

"I've never eaten a soul before, either," Soul offered, "but from what my brother told me, it's not so much about the taste than about the texture."

"I don't wanna know," Maka waved of quickly. "It was a rhetorical question. The big thing we need to talk about is how we're going to introduce you to my father." Soul opened his mouth to respond before slowly closing it again.

"...Do we have to?" he almost squeaked.

"Maka's father is the king," Tsubaki thought aloud. "He has the right to know about Weapons. The only reason I've never told him was because he's never encountered one and needed to know."

"Soul being a Weapon isn't the problem," Maka replied. "I'm more worried about the fact that Soul is male." The prince paled until his skin matched his hair. "Papa would insist on Soul having the free room furthest from my quarters, but that wouldn't be practical. And that's considering he doesn't try to kick him out of the kingdom or be executed for some reason."

"Worst comes to worst, Prince Soul could just change into his Weapon form," Tsubaki offered. "Only another Weapon or a direct attack to his soul wavelength could hurt him while he's in that form."

"This'll be fine," Maka waved off, not truly believing her own words. "This'll be just fine."

* * *

Maka and Tsubaki strode into the king's throne room that evening, the princess carrying her ever-present scythe over her shoulder. The only other people in the room were the king himself upon his throne, three men from some guild or another whom had scheduled an audience with him, and four knights with one stationed at each corner.

"...and that why restarting the lead mines in the north would be good for business," one of the three men concluded, bowing to the king with a flourish. Spirit stared at the man for a minute, watching him for any signs of lying.

"...Very well," the redheaded ruler finally sighed. "I will allow the mines to run for one year, but if the economy does not improve or I deem that any losses outweigh the gains, I will have the mines shut down once again."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the man breathed. "You are most generous." The three businessmen bowed and shuffled out of the room, leaving the king, his daughter, and her maid. Spirit's demeanor changed instantly, the man flinging himself off of his throne.

"MAKAAAAA!"

Use to this shenanigans, the princess smoothly dodged her overprotective father, leaving him to land sprawled on the floor.

"Father," Maka greeted. "We need to talk."

"What about, my darling?" Spirit replied, pulling himself to his feet. "Is something the matter? Whatever it is, I will have it dealt with!"

"No, Papa," Maka denied quickly. "I have something important to tell you, but I want you to do nothing about it."

"How can you demand something like that of me, my precious daughter?"

"Papa, please," Maka began. "I stumbled across some information about the Lost Century. I'll need you to dismiss the guards before I can tell you."

Spirit hesitated for a second, the request explaining the severity of the situation. He raised his right hand and gestured toward the door, the four knights exiting as silently as their armor would allow. The wooden doors slammed shut behind them, the noise echoing through the nearly-empty room.

"There," the king stated. "We are alone. What is it you wanted to tell me? You said it was something about the Lost Century?"

"Father, we're about to show you something. Please don't freak out." Spirit nodded uneasily. "Alright. Tsubaki, please start. It's best he sees it from someone he knows."

"Yes, Princess," the maid responded, pulling her hair forward and letting the change occur. Spirit stared in silence, mystified. "Your Majesty," the maid began, bowing, "I am Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, a member of the Clan of Dark Arms. I am a Soul Weapon."

"What, but, I, how?" Spirit stammered. "Wait. Did you just say that you are a Soul Weapon?"

"That is the term in this era, yes."

"But then..." He trialled off, his eyes turning to the object in his daughter's hands. In response, Maka held the scythe out in front of her.

"Your turn," the princess commented, releasing her hold of the weapon. The blade glinted, moving around her form of its own accord before flashing, a blob of light that was once the scythe condensing into the kneeling form of a young man.

"Greetings, Your Highness," the weapon-turned-boy said. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Soul Evans of the Scythe Clan of Weapon Kingdom. I am your daughter's Weapon."

Spirit blinked, trying to wrap his head around the fact that the weapon his daughter had brought home and had been hanging over her bed for three months was alive. And it was a boy.

It, a boy, had been in the same room as his precious little girl...

Watching her sleep...

Watching her change...

"Get out of my kingdom!" Spirit yelled with every once of parental rage he could muster. "How dare you try to take advantage of my little girl!"

"My apologies, King Spirit," Soul responded calmly, as if he had been expecting the outburst, "but I only take orders from one person. You are not my meister."

"And who is your master, then?" Spirit demanded.

"My meister," the boy corrected, "is Princess Maka. Only she may order me."

"And I'm keeping him," the princess stated, almost as if he were a lost puppy. "Soul and I have already completed the Bonding. We are partners for life."

"You've 'Bonded' with my daughter?!" the king screeched, taking the phrase to mean something dirty. "You little bastard! I'll have you executed for touching my baby!"

"You will do no such thing!" the princess yelled, dragging her father's attention to where she was glaring at him, her maid brandishing her own metal blade/hair threateningly, the chainscythe having become a small sword. "He is my Weapon! This is why I asked you not to freak out!"

"The Bonding ritual," Tsubaki stated coldly, "involved the Prince's soul and the Princess' to touch and accept each other. Nothing more. Doctor Stein and I witnessed it ourselves."

"Fine," Spirit growled. "You may stay. I will have a room in the west wing prepared for you."

"Unacceptable," Maka denied. "Should danger arise, the west wing is too far from my room in the east. He will be staying in my chambers."

"Absolutely not! I will tolerate his presence, Maka, but for him to room with you is too far!"

"You cannot stop me, Papa," the princess stated. "I have already made the proper arrangements."

"The proper-!?"

"Indeed." Silence fell over the group of four, the lack of noise almost stifling in the large room. Deciding that little talking was required at this point, the princess reached toward her Weapon. "Come."

Soul glowed, changing back into the weapon that had become synonymous with the princess over the last few months as the young royal twirled her Weapon around her form before resting it- him- over her shoulder. Tsubaki undid her transformation in response, her hair once more becoming nothing but hair. The duo of girls began walking toward the door.

"Oh, and Papa?" Maka said, turning her eyes back toward the king. "The reason the Lost Century was lost was because the Weapons have been hiding ever since. Having a 300-year-old servant will be very enlightening."

Opening the doors, Maka gestured to the knights who had been waiting outside to return to their posts. The doors slid shut behind them, leaving the flabbergasted king with only his thoughts and four silent guards. He let out a low whine.

"Makaaaaaa..."

* * *

"I'm glad that's settled," Princess Maka sighed as the doors closed behind the guards. "Now, what do you say we go talk to Captain Black*Star?"

"A-Are you sure?" Tsubaki stuttered. "If we want to keep mine and Prince Soul's statuses as Weapons a secret, then would telling the captain really be a good idea?"

"Don't worry about it," Maka waved off. "You know how he is. He's an idiot, but he's kept my secret adventures quiet, so I know he can keep a secret." She turned toward her maid with a gleam in her eyes. "Let's go get you a meister." Tsubaki jumped, blushing.

"Princess!"

**End of Chapter 3**

* * *

**Once again, I will say, _this story is up for adoption!_ I don't know enough of the Soul Eater lore to finish this, but maybe one of you can? I'd love to see it happen! The only condition I have is that it must be a MakaXSoul pairing.**

**Read and Review!**

**-SwordOfTheGods**


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